Like Glass
by Goddess Blue
Summary: Complete. HD slash. Love makes people weak, like glass. Can Draco handle such weakness?
1. Of Weaknesses

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre OotP. 

**Like Glass  
Chapter 1 - Of Weakness**

The moon was high and bright, sitting amidst feathery clouds and dancing among the stars, the night Draco Malfoy finally admitted the truth to himself. A feeling he couldn't quite describe had been bothering him all day, and he'd made his way into the Hogwarts gardens hours past curfew to think about what he couldn't quite put his finger on.

It was the soft, almost romantic way the moonlight fell across the roses growing in droves before him that clued him into what was happening to him. He was feeling something he'd never felt before, but had seen often enough. He'd sneered at the idea whenever he'd seen someone express it. He'd used it against people when it suited him. It was love.

Draco hadn't thought of love in a long time. When he was ten, his father had crushed his dreams of romance and ever-after. They'd been shopping in Diagon Alley, for some reason or another, and had stopped at a luscious restaurant for lunch. Lucius had explained to Draco that it was time for him to learn about what was expected of him as heir to the Malfoy estate. Lucius had listed for Draco the redeeming qualities that Narcissa had that made her the perfect Mistress of Malfoy Manor.

She was loyal to a fault.

She was born of a pureblood family. A rich pureblood family.

She'd been a virgin upon marriage.

She'd been impeccably trained from a young age in manners and wifely duties.

She was cunning and ruthless.

She had a world class education.

She was beyond reproach and would never embarrass the Malfoy name.

These were the things Draco was to look for in a future wife. Draco had frowned and asked of love. His father had looked down his nose at him.

"Love is weak, Draco. Like glass. It looks pretty, when twisted into shapes with sweet words and given the right setting, but its still glass. Delicate. It breaks easily enough. Love makes a man weak, Draco. It gives him a weakness. When you want to kill a man's body, son, you don't go for a leg or an arm, you go for his heart. When you want to crush a man's spirit, his soul, the thing that makes him fight for what he thinks is right, you crush his heart. You're a Malfoy. You're not meant for a weakness like love."

Lucius had politely thanked the waitor who'd just brought them their lunch and pointed out a couple on the other side of the restaraunt, sitting dangerously close to one another. The brown-haired man looked absolutely enthralled with the blond bombshell, who was twirling a hair around her finger, gazing into his eyes lovingly. They were whispering to each other, in a room so noisy and crowded that no one could hear what they were saying anyway unless they yelled.

She gave her lover a warm smile and leaned in to give him a quick kiss before picking up a grape and feeding it to him.

Lucius snorted. "How cliche."

Draco smiled smugly. "See? They're in love."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son. "That man's name is Jonathan Thumb. He works with me at the ministry and has recently seen something of mine that he shouln't. Our Mr. Thumb is a very distrusting person. He's got spells all over his apartment and no one gets in or out at anytime except his fiancee there. They've been planning their wedding for two years. They were sweethearts in school. I overheard his mother once, at a party, telling someone that Sally was the only woman she'd trust with her beloved son. She's designing Sally's dress. He trusts her implicitly."

He smiled coldly.

"I was surprised at how easy it was to get her to agree to kill him for me."

Draco gaped at his father and began to feel sick. "B-but..."

"Draco, every man has a weak spot. And so does the woman he loves. Anybody can be bought, if you pay ther right price. Anybody can be blackmailed, we all have our secrets. Everyone has a weak spot."

"Even you?"

Lucius let out a short laugh.

"I, my son, am a master at finding a person's weak spot and exploiting it. It's easy enough to identify your own weaknesses and get rid of them."

Draco stared down at his food for a good ten minutes, listening to his father tell an amusing anecdote about Minister Fudge. He didn't feel like eating. It was when they were just about to leave that Draco glanced over to the sappy couple.

"What was her price, father?"

Lucius halted and smiled over at the couple. "I went with blackmail this time. She's pregnant with his brother's child."

The next morning the papers reported the poisoning death of Jonathan Thumb, ministry official. He'd been found by his fiancee, who would weeks later inform the wizarding world that she was pregnant with a dead man's baby.

Nearly a year later, and a thousand lessons from his father more cynical, Draco was amused to read of Sally Thomas and her engagement to Timothy Thumb, quidditch player for the Chudley Cannons, and brother of her dead fiance.

Taking after his father, Draco had learned how to read people with one quick glance. Find their weaknesses with minimal effort. Exploit their feelings and insecurities to get them to respond exactly the way he wanted them to. It was almost easy, reading people. He'd looked to himself in the early days and discovered his weaknesses and gotten rid of them.

His love for his mother, he'd turned into admiration and distanced himself from her. She'd seemed pleased he was learning his way.

He'd distanced himself emotionally from just about everyone, learning to let them feel close to him so that he could exploit them without them ever suspecting.

He didn't let himself enjoy anything anymore.

He was in control now. He held power. He'd eraticated every weakness he'd come across.

But he'd just found a new one. He was in love.

With Harry Potter.

**End Chapter**


	2. A Diamond Among the Glass

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Kisses. Slightly overdone philosophical imagery. One or two curse words.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 2 - A Diamond Among the Glass**

Draco walked the halls sometimes at night, when the moon was hidden behind silvery whispers of cloud, and silence rolled over the school like water closing in on a drowning man. He felt like a man drowning on cool nights like these, alone in a world of people sleeping soundly, wrapped warm in their blankets, safe in the knowledge that somewhere in the world, someone loved them.

And wished that, in his world, he were loved half as much as he were feared.

A tenth.

He stopped beside a spotted window, stained from the spring rain that had fallen that day, watching the moonlight fight its way through the grime to light the trodden carpet in window-shaped patches.

He heard the panting and moaning as he turned the corner, but was not quite ready to face the couple who looked up at him in shock from the floor.

Ginny Weasley... and Blaise Zabini?

Well, he hadn't seen that coming. His eyes narrowed at his housemate, ignoring the bright-red blushing girl shrinking away from him. Well, she should be afraid. Making out with Zabini in the middle of the hallway. He could have been Filch, come to catch them in the act.

"What kind of idiot are you, Zabini? There are empty classrooms you could use for that."

With this he turned on his heel, but not before seeing the slick, sly smile flash over Zabini's features.

And the flushed oh-so-happy look in Ginny Weasley's eyes.

He'd been sitting before the fire in the common room soaking up the heat that came from the white-hot flames, turning the ring his father had given him on his last birthday. It was set with eight tiny diamonds, a symbol of the wealth and power the Malfoy dynasty held. He'd been trying to imagine, in one of those insane moments that he let himself think about Harry, what it would be like to make out with him. Would they have made it to the empty classroom, or would the passion have overwhelmed them so soon after they'd stumbled upon one another? Would he have been the one smiling slyly at their would-be interruptor?

Or would he be flushed? And happy?

The creak of the door signalled the late entrance of Blaise Zabini, dressed in all black muggle clothes. Sans robes. His hair was messy in a way Draco had never seen it, his clothes rumpled, a deep red mark on his neck.

Well well, who'd have thought it of Ginny Weasley?

Blaise grinned at Draco and did a little dancing step over to him, picking up a large glass marble and throwing it from hand to hand casually.

"You know, Draco, that that was a secret, don't you?"

Draco hmmed in the back of his throat, flipping a page in the random book he'd grabbed in an earlier effort to block thoughts of Harry from his mind.

"Actually, I'm kind of glad you stumbled upon us like that."

Draco raised an eyebrow and drawled sarcastically, "Really? I was afraid I'd ruined the mood."

Blaise chuckled and sat beside Draco, letting his head roll onto the couch back. He let out a satisfied sigh. "Actually, you gave me a reason to comfort her."

Draco rolled his eyes and set his book aside, letting his amused gaze fall on his companion. "Ginny Weasley?"

Blaise's face lost his smile and he sat up, nervously running a hand through his hair, his eyes closing momentarily before fixing on the icy blond beside him. "I know. I know. She's a Weasley. She's poor. My parents would never approve, and her brothers would beat the shit out of me if they knew. She's not meant to be the future Mrs. Zabini, if my parents have any say in it."

"So it's a fling?"

Blaise cursed under his breath and stood to pace the room. "She's beautiful. She's gorgeous. Hell, she's a goddess. She makes me think things I've never thought. She makes me want to spend all my time exploring her body with my tongue-"

"Spare me."

Blaise grinned slightly, aware Draco was trying to cheer him up. "She makes me feel like dancing, and _skipping_. She makes me feel like fighting and screaming and crying. She makes me feel as if I'm doing _something_, even if its only just waiting for her to gift me with her presence. She makes me want to earn fortunes and buy her palaces and give them all away again just to make her happy. She makes me want to do _good_ things."

"Be careful what you say in the Slytherin towers, my friend."

"_Fuck_ that! She makes me want to yell out how much I love her from the top of the rooftops-"

"Love?"

Blaise froze and stared in shock at Draco. He turned a lost gaze onto the fireplace, as if just realizing the depths of his feelings.

The seconds ticked away, till he turned to Draco, a grave expression on his face. "I'd give up every ounce of power in the world at the chance of holding her heart in my hands. I'd give up every diamond and bauble my parents could throw my way at the chance of being her husband. I'd give up every dream my mother every had of me producing a respectable heir for the Zabini line and have seven children with her, live poor in the Hollows, if only she'd be mine. It must be love."

Draco gazed into the warm tendrils of flame, dying now in the lateness of the hour. "My father..." he began, "my father once told me that love was like glass. It's weak, Zabini, easily broken. I've come to see that love can turn men into glass as well. Cool, glass statues, arranged in happy little patterns. If you know just where to hit a glass statue, it breaks."

Draco stood and took the glass marble from Blaise's hand, the boy watching him in confusion. He raised the marble above his head, and putting all of his strength behind the move, threw the orb from his hand to the stone floor, shattering it into millions of intricate little pieces.

"Love, like glass, can be shattered with the mere want to do so. Every shard of glass on this floor represents a thousand loves lost in this world to pettiness, betrayal, anger, bribery, blackmail... the list goes on and on, Blaise. Love doesn't last, even when left to it's own devices."

He turned to leave, his footsteps sounding through the quiet room like a summons from pugatory. He stopped at a quiet shuffling behind him, he turned to find Blaise crouched over the shards, looking up at him, a twinkling in his hand.

"And sometimes, Draco, a man can be lucky enough to find a diamond among the glass. A love that makes him strong."

He stood, walking quietly over to Draco, pulling the blond's hand out, palm up. Depositing the diamond on the palm of a hand that had never seen a day's work.

"You should get that ring of yours looked at, I think the settings are loose."

**End Chapter**


	3. A Little Peace and Quiet

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Het. Mushiness.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 3 - A Little Peace and Quiet**

Draco was trying to read his book. Again. Without thoughts of Harry invading his mind, but that was proving to be impossible. Everywhere he turned he was reminded of the love he held for the Boy Who Lived. Across the lawn of Hogwarts lay the Quidditch pitch. He stopped to look over to it and remember all the times he'd played against Harry.

Harry was a God when he flew.

There was a passion in that boy's eyes that made Draco's heart race. It was just the same amount of passion that Harry usually put into their fights, which as the years flew by had begun to turn dramatic and just a little showy. Draco had been beginning to feel like sideshow entertainment for the whole of Hogwarts.

It had only gotten worse to keep up with when he realized he'd rather be having passionate arguments with Harry in private.

He'd rather be having passionate anything with Harry in private. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on.

He saw Ginny Weasley too late to make a run for it. She looked just a little bit apprehensive, but he admired her bravery at coming to talk to him. All of the younger ones were scared of him. Harry Potter's enemy. He was up there in bedtime nightmares with Voldemort.

"Listen, Draco..." she died off, fidgeting and looking away.

"I won't tell. Your secret is safe with me."

She looked at him in shock, then let her eyes sweep up and down over him. Her expression softened and she smiled at him.

"Thank you."

"Are you ashamed of him?"

She blinked at him. "Me, ashamed of him? How stupid do you think I am? I know that all of his friends would turn on him if they knew about us. I know how angry his parents would be. I don't think our relationship would last that long."

Draco stared at her. "Do you know, I'm tempted to leave you two to your own devices just to see how long it would last, but here's a hint: If he hasn't told you, he's in love with you. If it wasn't obvious to you, it's obvious me that you love him as well. I hate to sound starry eyed and romantic, but you could be a strong couple. Show no fear, Weasley. If you think Zabini is good enough for you, and I know he thinks you're good enough for him, go for it."

"He's... perfect. I don't mean dashing and romantic, and he is when he's being all 'suave,' but it's so obvious its more charming than slick. I'm not saying I want to run away and live in a glass castle with blood red roses with him, fighting off the dragons and gazing into each other's eyes all the time. I'm saying I want to... I want to read a good book with him. Make a home with him, as loving as mine own. I want to show him how to bake cakes, knowing all the while how uncomfortable he'll be. Worried about his fancy clothes or something. I want to cook him dinner and watch the sunset with him. I want to argue about the color of couch we get and what's the best Quidditch team. I just wanna live with him."

Draco smiled at her, warmed by her homey description of the perfect life with Blaise.

"It's all I need."

Draco nodded. "I think you should be open about your relationship. You two are... good for each other. He's an actual friend of mine, and... I care about what happens to him. Tell your friends and family together, it'll be better in the long run. And always, always," at this point he stepped up to her, determination in his gaze, "be honest with him. Trust him and let him trust you. I've seen love be used against people time and time again. Friendships, lovers, wives and husbands. Don't ever give someone a reason or a way to get to him. If you cause him any harm I will bring harm down upon everyone you know."

Draco pulled back and straightened up and blinked at himself. He hadn't even known until then how much his friendship with Blaise had meant to him. Another weakness. The list grew longer every day. He'd gone so long without letting anything into his heart, but people like Zabini were crafty. Who'd have guessed someone could win Draco's friendship by simply being nice to him. Being there for him.

You can only hold the world out for so long.

Ginny Weasley smiled at him, turning to leave before pausing a few feet away. "You know something, Draco? I think that's the sweetest threat you've ever thrown my way."

Draco was grumbling about interruptions and settling down by a tree as she walked away, a smile on her face and determination on her face.

* * *

Harry was everywhere. Draco just couldn't get away. He put down his book and shot the approaching boy Potter a look clearly depicting his unhappiness with the situation. Harry shrugged at him, understanding instantly, the way Harry always did. That was part of the danger of Harry. It was easy for him to see Draco's weaknesses.

"I'm only here to say hi."

"Sure."

"I'm worried about you, Malfoy. It's a beautiful day out, and all you can do is sit here and read a book," at this point Harry sat down beside Draco and reached over to grab his book. His perceptive eyes skimmed the cover of Hamlet and he sent Draco a questioning look, before shaking his head and handing the book back. "Do you know that you haven't picked on anyone in months?"

"I'm starting to re-think that decision."

"And you and I haven't had a fight in a few weeks either."

"I can remedy that. Are you busy right now?"

Harry grinned and shook his head, continuing on, "not that I wanted to fight you or anything. It's just that... well, let's say that when even Ron is worrying about you, I should probably check up on you."

"Charming." He was starting to feel intoxicated with the nearness of Harry. The sleek, inky hair glinting in the sunlight. "It's gratifying to hear that Wesley's concerned about me-"

"Another weakness to exploit? His kindness?"

Draco felt a pang of hurt hit him, and he flashed Harry a dirty look. He felt even worse because he knew it was true. He was a horrible person. His father was a horrible person.

And being in control was lonely.

But he couldn't stop being Draco Malfoy right now. It just didn't fit. He just wasn't nice. Even to Harry.

"I'm sorry, I'll take that back. But it's an issue I feel we should address later."

"What are you, my therapist?"

"I'm a concerned acquaintance."

Draco sighed and rolled his shoulders before leaning back against his tree. "Go away, Potter. And know that any weakness I have, is a victory to you. We'll never be friends, Harry. We can only be enemies. Take advantage of this chance. There won't be many."

"You called me Harry." Harry's eyes had darkened behind his glasses and he was leaning into Draco. Close. Too close.

Draco's eyes narrowed and he snapped away from Harry, shuffling to his feet, clutching his book with tension. "It's your name, ignoramus."

Harry stood as well, taking a step forward, concern and something else in his eyes. "I know, it's just... I know you knew my name."

"It's not the first time I've said it, either. I don't know why you should be so surprised." Draco jumped when he felt Harry's hand fall on his shoulder.

Harry smiled comfortingly at him. "I know. Relax."

Draco snorted and turned on his heel. Maybe the library would afford him some privacy.

* * *

"There's my favorite neighborhood ferret boy."

"What is it with you Gryffindors today? Decided it's just the perfect day to bother me?"

"Something like that. Isn't today a beautiful day?"

"Merlin, another one."

"I can't help it, I'm in love."

"Oh, not you too. First Zabini and Weasley, now this."

"Ron's in love?" Her eyes lit up with girlish hope.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I was referring to the younger Weasley. Ginny."

"You know, the confusion could all be solved if you called everyone by their first names, Malfoy."

"Hypocrite. And anyway, the confusion could be solved just as easily if only the Weasleys would stop breeding like rabbits," he said without malice.

Hermione stifled a giggle. "Watch it. I could be a Weasley someday."

"Merlin, save us."

"Haven't you ever been in love?" She put her arms up and twirled around happily in the dewy grass. He rolled his eyes. "Oh, get off it, Malfoy. You're seventeen years old! You're young!"

She flopped down beside him and took his arm in her hands, extending the sleeve us his robe us past his elbow, running her fingers along his flesh.

His eyebrows raised, "checking for marks, Granger?"

Hermione shook her head and snorted. "You, Malfoy? Somehow I don't think 'Follow the Leader' was ever a game you played well in school. Look, Malfoy. Blood runs through these veins, hot and passionate. Your heart pumps it through miles of arteries to keep you alive, and right now it's jumping to get out and do something foolish, I can feel it."

"You can?"

"Yes. It's the time in a young man's life when he looks to young women," and here she slid knowing eyes to him, "or other young men,"

He barely stopped himself from choking.

"-and the heart builds bonds with other human beings. Attraction, passion, affection, love..."

"Weakness."

Hermione sighed and let his arm go. He eyes focused on something faraway and invisible to Draco. "Weak. Yes."

He nodded and began to stand.

"Tell me Draco, do you think you'll live forever?"

Draco frowned down at her. "That's nearly impossible."

"Do you think you can live your life, a fortress in a land with no stability? You'd stand against the storm?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You'd never see beyond the horizon. Never feel the rush of falling. Never experience the fear of running for you life, and never experience the joy of that first meal just after you've escaped death. The colors that invade your senses. All you'll ever eat is bland, and all you ever see is black and white. What does being safe get you?"

"Tell me something Granger, if you went to him now and confessed your love, would it break your heart if he turned you away?"

The breath caught in her throat. "It would break my heart, but I'd still have wanted to love him."

Draco made a derisive sound. "And if he said he loved you back and two weeks from now you found him sleeping with some Ravenclaw, not a thought about his girlfriend?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "We are talking about Ron here, aren't we?"

"Anything's possible."

"Yes, I suppose it is. No, Draco. I wouldn't give up this feeling of being in love, even if it comes with all that pain."

He nodded shortly and turned to leave, then stopped and turned back to her. "And if he felt the same, and you were one day married, had eight children, hundreds of honeymoons and happy evenings together. And one day during the battle that you know must come, he's captured so they can get to you? Don't pretend your skills won't be dearly needed in this war."

Hermione sighed. "You mean if my never loving him would have kept me safe?"

He nodded.

"I'd die a thousand deaths to love him freely for just one day."

"Sweeping statement. And if the roles were reversed, and your loving him put him in danger instead?"

At this she looked over and smiled at him. "Is that what this is, Draco? The flimsy hope that by hiding all of your feelings, you'll feel nothing when he's in trouble? When he's in pain? Merlin forbid, when he dies?"

Draco was silent.

"Ron fights for what he believes in. Its part of what makes me love him. He'd fight even if the two of us never loved each other. He'd be in danger whether I gave into my feelings or not. I love him Draco, and I can't hide it."

Draco nodded.

"I'm telling him tonight," she said, sending him a crafty gaze, "so Harry should be free."

Draco snorted and turned on his heel, walking away from her. Hermione Granger followed him with that all-seeing look. Why did she have to know everything?

**End Chapter**


	4. A Little Action

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses. Angst. Mushiness.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 4 - A Little Action**

It was cold out. He hated the cold. He'd been cold long enough on the inside, he didn't need to feel it on the outside too. When winter hit, it always made him feel as if his soul had slipped out and infected the rest of the world with its chilliness. It made him feel guilty. He hated feeling guilty.

It implied that he felt. That he cared.

And he didn't. He was trying to make that quite clear to himself. He. did. not. care. He didn't care if Blaise was happy or not. He didn't care if his words that afternoon had eased Ginny's worry or lifted her spirits. He didn't care if Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb had finally confessed their oh-so-obvious feelings to each other. He didn't care what Harry-Potter- was doing right now.

He didn't.

He was on his broom, out on Hogwarts' Quidditch pitch, floating lazily in the air. He'd thought to spend some time in the freedom of the air, letting the world fade away. It was the one weakness he'd never been able to wean himself from, the flying. He had a sneaking suspicion that if someone wanted to blackmail him into doing something, all they'd have to do was steal his broom. Even though he knew all he'd have to do would be to buy himself a new broom. He liked this broom. He'd flown against Harry-Potter (he paused to shake his head at himself)-many times on this broom. It held memories.

The Quidditch pitch was probably where it all started. Like many love-struck girls carrying a torch for Potter, he had to admit that Harry looked great on a broom. And those girls didn't even know the half of it; Draco always got a good look at him in the air. The wind always seemed to breathe through his already messy hair, and he always seemed to glow with the same kind of energy Draco felt while in the air. And after a few laps around the pitch, a few near misses with the snitch, Draco had to admit that Harry looked good in sweat too.

Although he was fairly sure that Harry looked good in anything.

Well, this was certainly not helping him to clear his head. A cough from below him drew his attention and he looked down into the stunning emerald green eyes of his obsessions.

"And now you're up to bothering me twice in one day, Potter?"

Harry's lips quirked up in a half smile and he saluted Draco. "No, sir. Hermione and Ron are... busy." At this he grinned and shook his head, amusement showing in his face. "Anyway, I needed something to do, and one can never practice enough. It's a bit cold out, isn't it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You're observant. And you're right, too. You can never practice enough, Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he dropped the friendly countenance he'd been showing to Draco. "You're all talk and no action, Malfoy."

Draco chuckled and leaned down, dipping his broom lower and locking his eyes to Harry's. "You looking for a little action tonight, Harry?"

He tried to persuade himself that he'd meant that in a purely non-sexual manner.

Harry chose to ignore the blatant come on, and drew from his pocket a singularly content snitch. "I saw you flying out here, and figured I could probably talk you into a little one on one. You up for it?"

Draco leaned back and gave Harry an appraising once-over. "It's a little too cold for this, don't you think?"

"What, you can't handle it?"

Draco's eyes narrowed and they both stared at each other, Harry's gaze challenging. Draco growled deep in his throat. "You're on."

Harry smiled, and Draco only had a moment to bask in the shock to his system that smile always brought, before Harry mounted his broom, and let the snitch go.

It was gone in seconds.

Draco sighed and took to the south end goals. Harry took a quick tour around the field, then settled on the goals opposite Draco. They floated where they were for a while, just watching the field.

Harry's voice wafted over to him, and Draco fought the urge to look up and give Harry his undivided attention. "Why do you hate Muggles, Draco?"

"Ah, a political discussion. Where's the sudden interest in my interests coming from, Potter?"

"Know thy enemy, know thyself."

"Me being the enemy?"

"You being the closest representative of the enemy at hand."

"You mean, Voldemort."

There was silence across the field and Draco looked up to see Harry's vivid eyes on him. "You're not afraid to say his name?"

Draco snorted. "He's not the bogey man. He can't hear me."

"He's my bogey man. He's certainly ugly enough."

Draco held back a smile. "I hear that evil does that to you. You should understand, Potter, that Voldemort doesn't give a damn whether Muggles live or die, and he doesn't care what they do. He used that as a theme, a bid for power. He convinces people not to like something and then says, 'Hey there, I can get rid of that for you, you just gotta do some stuff for me first.'"

Draco looked back down and scanned the field for the snitch.

"So you don't think Muggles need to be exterminated like rats?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I could care less. None of them ever did anything to me."

"But you've always said..."

"It's not about Muggles, or Mudbloods, Potter. It's about Power."

"Oh, I see. So you don't care if they live or die? Of course you don't think they should be killed, but you don't mind if other people feel like killing them."

"Bingo. I don't care."

"And all the things you've always said at Hermione and Ron's dad..."

"People respect me when I piss you off, Potter. You know what the funny thing is? Voldemort wants power over people, and he's got it. Every witch and wizard out there is terrified of even saying his name. And it's not even his real name. And they say he lost when he scarred you?" He shook his head, "People only feared him more."

"Power means that much to you? Feelings mean nothing?"

Draco steeled himself against that note in Harry's voice. "What feelings? Feelings are dangerous things."

He felt a whoosh of air and Harry's voice disturbingly near him. "Aren't they?"

His head whipped up, and he drank in the sight of Harry clutching the snitch in his fingers, leaning forward, deep green eyes locked with his placid grays. His eyes narrowed and he growled. "You cheated, you little bastard. Distracting me like that. That's a dirty trick, Potter."

"Sore loser."

Draco tried to reign in his temper.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll catch it someday."

His broom jolted forward and connected with Harry's, crashing them both in an arc to the ground. They were wrestling around on the grass within moments, Draco's hands struggling to find the snitch in Harry's grasp. Harry's free hand slid behind his head and pulled at his hair to yank Draco's head back. Muttered curses washed over the two as they fought. It began to drizzle and they were both getting wet. Harry flipped him over and had him pinned beneath that Quidditch roughened body. Each of Harry's hands were planted firmly in the ground on either side of Draco's head, hold his hands down. Draco's left hand and Harry's right both curled possessively around the snitch.

"You looking for a little action tonight, Draco?"

And Harry's lips came crashing down.

Draco immediately stopped struggling and moaned into the kiss. Sheets of electricity surged through him and he almost embarrassed himself by shuddering at Harry's touch. That infuriating Potter was quickly making up for every irritation he'd ever shoved upon him, and the Slytherin was kissing back, passionately making his own amends. Gasping, Harry pulled back and stared down at him. A moment's respite was all Draco needed for his brain to catch up with his libido, and when Harry's lips searched his own out again, he turned his head. Fortunately, he was able to work past the feeling of Harry's lips on his cheek enough to wiggle out from under him and struggle to his feet.

Just barely.

"Well, Potter. Two victories over me in one night and a nice little insight into my psyche. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

Harry was looking adorably confused and lost, and Draco had to pull himself away from the image to twist on his heel and head back to Hogwarts.

The snitch twitched in his fingers mockingly.

**End Chapter**


	5. Friendship Is

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses. Angst. Mushiness.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 5 - Friendship Is**

That stupid, annoying, terrifying, wonderful kiss was still bothering him the next day. Yesterday, if someone had told him that a kiss from your one true love could be so astoundingly different from all other kisses; could turn your world upside down, he'd have smiled and shook his head and held it up to romanticism.

But he'd been kissed before, and it was never like that.

Wait-a-minute. Pause. Rewind. Your one true love?

That kiss had done more damage than he'd thought. He'd even caught himself with a dreamy look on his face this morning, and he'd felt like crawling back into bed. He didn't think Madame Pomfrey had a cure for this.

He passed by Weasley and Granger, who were holding hands. Ugh. They both gave him odd looks and he scowled as he walked by. It took him a minute for the meaning behind those looks to fully hit him.

Potter had told.

He'd never felt so humiliated. This is what came from allowing such weaknesses.

In the Great Hall, Draco was confronted with yet another disgustingly happy couple. Blaise was seated at the Gryffindor table, with Ginny Weasley directly on his lap. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was wiped away the moment he turned to the Slytherin table.

He raised his head and adopted a regal pose, seating himself in between his two 'henchmen', in the exact center of the Slytherin table. Every one of the sixth years paused and looked at him expectantly. He picked up a knife and began to cut into his syrup drenched toast, raising an eyebrow to acknowledge the scrutiny aimed at him.

"Well?" Pansy prompted.

"Well, what?" Draco said with a bored tone of voice.

"Well, what are we going to do about that traitor, Blaise?"

The table fell into silence and Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Crabbe was obviously not getting it.

"Precisely." Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Why should we care where Zabini gets his jollies. She's just a girl, and no danger to us. There'll come a day when love will let him down, and all the goody, goodies over there will take her side, and he'll be left with nothing."

"Serves him right. Can we help it along?"

Draco shook his head. "No, Pansy. He'll be left with nothing over there," he gestured to the Gryffindor table, "but if we remain loyal to him, he'll remain loyal to us. He could be a great asset, even if she never turned on him. Having someone in the inner circle could be valuable."

"He's smarter than that. And besides, we don't support him in this." Millicent Bulstrode sniffed.

"True, but we can always pretend to be on his side. Don't make more enemies than you can handle, Bulstrode."

And he sat back and let them hash it out, knowing that they'd eventually agree with him. He surreptitiously looked up and over to the Gryffindor table, where Blaise was grinning and feeding a very pleased looking Ginny. Ron was watching them both with a mix of brotherly protectiveness and disgust, but at the moment, he was distracted by Hermione's hand being somewhere it probably shouldn't at the breakfast table.

The red head jumped about a foot in the air and brushed brightly, and Draco had to move his eyes to keep from laughing. And then his eyes met with deep emerald.

There was a slip in his concentration for a moment before he shook it off and stood from his table, vacating the premises as quickly as possible.

* * *

He hadn't been able to absorb a word on the page in front of him; it was almost as if he was reading Gaelic. He was just starting to drown himself in the jumble on the page. A soft voice disturbed his straining concentration.

"You did that for me."

Draco looked up from his Potions book and adopted his customary cold air. He sometimes wondered whether he should get a pair of reading glasses so that he could pretend to peer over them in that infuriatingly calm way Madame Pomfrey did. It tended to drive students insane that someone could be that patiently judgmental.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Blaise narrowed his eyes and sat down across from the high-backed chair Draco had settled himself into. "Bullshit. You talked them into supporting me. I don't know how you did it, or what kind of psycho-babble you used on them, but... thank you."

Draco smiled briefly then frowned at Blaise. "Well, I didn't need all that Drama going on around me. I've got enough to worry about."

Blaise suddenly grinned and leered at Draco. "I know."

Draco stilled and looked back down at his Potions book. "Know what?"

"I know why you've been distracted and dreamy all day long."

Draco hmmed. "And how's that?"

"Well, first thing's first. Your book is upside down."

Draco blinked and refocused on the page. "That explains it," he mumbled, and turned the book around.

"Plus I saw you and Potter rolling around on the Quidditch Pitch last night."

Draco sank back into his chair and rubbed his temples. "Merlin. Maybe we should sell tickets next time."

"Next time?"

Draco winced and blurted, "No! No, there will be no 'next time'."

Blaise smiled to himself. "Mmhmm. It looked as if you were enjoying yourself quite thoroughly before you chickened out."

"I did not 'Chicken Out.' I simply came to my senses." Draco was beginning to get irritated.

"Gee, Draco. Seems to me like you should hang onto a guy who can make you lose your senses." Blaise had a big grin on his face, delighting in the fact that he'd finally outmaneuvered his friend.

Draco blushed and stood, gathering up his books. "I'm going to go study in the dorm room. I think I might be able to concentrate better up there."

"Bye, Draco."

Draco didn't say a word as he swept out.

**End Chapter**


	6. Staying Away

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses. Angst. Mushiness.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 6 - Staying Away**

Draco found himself in the library, hiding from the world as he knew it. Previously in life, when something like this had happened to him, and he found that his iron steady control was wanting, perhaps even wavering, he would retreat into his books and try to at least run away from his problems until he could figure out a solution.

Today, however, it was not helping.

He could remember many such situations and times, and upon further search into his memory, he wasn't really surprised to find that most of them were all thanks to Harry Potter.

That first refusal of his friendship, which hadn't surprised him, but had offended him nonetheless.

All the Quidditch games and duels in which Harry Potter had been the only wizard to best him. It was, at times, infuriating. All right, more than just 'at times'. More like, all the time.

Harry Potter was one irritating boy.

And now he was handsome, sexy, and alluring on top of that. Harry was a weakness with a capital W, but he wasn't quite sure if he knew how to get rid of this one. Perhaps if he let it run its course, this odd attraction he felt to the boy wonder would cease. Probably not, he could go back through the years and find that this particular weakness ran long and deep, and it probably was not going to go away simply because he was uncomfortable with it.

He was getting a headache thinking about it.

He wondered what his father would do in his situation, and he let the idea of contacting his patriarch and running the problem by him flit through his head, before nearly laughing himself silly. He knew exactly what his father would do with this information; he'd use it against him.

And if he knew that Harry liked him back. That they'd kissed...

Draco straightened and stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the books in front of him, mind a thousand miles away.

If he knew that Harry liked Draco back, Draco would become Voldemort's pawn faster than Harry could catch a snitch. Harry would be in danger. Draco cringed and let his head fall against the spines of the books on the bookshelf in front of him.

There was a reason to stay away from Potter if he ever heard one.

* * *

The air split quietly before him as he picked up speed, racing after the elusive snitch. The empty grandstands let loose an enormous cheer as the blond seeker closed in on the winged prize, hungry eyes cutting across the distance.

"Draco Malfoy's caught sight of the snitch, and hold on to your seats folks, he might actually catch it today. That's right, you're all witnessing history in the making. Harry Potter will lose this match to Draco Malfoy, and he'll soon be found in the deepest recesses of Gryffindor Tower bawling his eyes out and begging that sexy Slytherin for mercy."

Draco grinned predatorily and tackled the glittering little ball, nearing falling off his broom as he howled in delight. The thrill of the chase. Hunting a snitch. There was nothing like it. Freedom. Weaknesses in the game of Quidditch were merely technical, and couldn't get you killed. Not in years, anyway.

His father didn't sit in the crowds, glowering and threatening. Voldemort didn't breathe down his neck, demanding that he join the other team. So called friends didn't try to take advantage of him. Real friends didn't get into trouble that they couldn't be gotten out of, and no one told him what to do.

He gracefully landed his broom and fell back into the grass of the pitch, petting the snitch thoughtfully and staring up at the stars. He hadn't gone night riding since that evening of the infamous Malfoy/Potter kiss, and he'd missed it. He smiled widely at the thought of beating Potter in this playing field, "Begging me for mercy. I like that idea."

At that point, his mind took another turn and Harry wasn't on the field, on his knees, looking up at him with large, teary eyes. No, this time Harry was on the field, on his knees, looking up at him with lust. Begging for mercy, indeed.

He caught himself just in time and shook his head, shrugging away the thoughts he only allowed to cross his mind in his dreams, when he couldn't fight them away. And a voice broke his reverie.

"I wondered if I was ever going to see you again. You had me balling my eyes out and begging for mercy, huh?"

Draco scrambled to his feet and identified a shape in the nearest set of stands. "Potter?"

"Have you been hiding from me, Draco?" The voice softened and the shape vaulted itself over the ledge of the stands, scaring the shit out of Draco until he noticed Harry had his broom with him, and had flown himself out of the fall with the grace he was so respected for.

"Hiding? I've been busy. We've got exams coming up, you know. I can't spend all my time catering to the whims of the Great Harry Potter."

In their earlier years, Harry would have growled and thrown an insult back at him.

"Now, there's an idea. Wanna make out on the Quidditch pitch again, Draco?"

"Can't," Draco answered glibly, "I'm meeting Weasley in a minute. We're going to run away together."

Harry smiled and moved closer to Draco, making his senses swim. "I'll have to steal you away from him, then."

Draco only gave him a patronizing look. "But don't you see, Harry? I love him. We didn't want to hurt you or Hermione, which's why it's been kept a secret so long. I'm sorry, but I have to go meet him." He rose his hand to his forehead and stumbled away in a Gone With the Wind manner, and Harry only chuckled and caught him tightly about the waist, pulling Draco flush against him. Draco was beginning to regret their teasing conversation.

"Too bad. He can't have you. You're mine." And Draco had to shiver when he realized the teasing note in Harry's voice was gone. He tried in vain to pull away, and Harry took hold of his wrist and swung him around so they faced each other. "Are you afraid of me, Draco?"

"Yes," Draco answered without thinking, and Harry blinked at him, confused.

"Why?"

Draco sighed and sagged against him. Here he was, with Harry, it was dark... and no one had to know. His voice came out ragged and hesitant, "You're... something I can't control. You're better than me. You're better at this than me, and you're a danger to every wall that I've ever put up against the world. My defenses can't survive a full on attack from Harry Potter, and when I'm laid open and bared to you, what happens if you don't see something you want?"

Harry stared at him, shocked, unable to add a comment to the litany, and Draco dragged his heart back into his chest and pulled away.

Harry stepped forward and captured Draco's hands, pulling them together again and frowning down at Draco. "I see something I want."

Draco shook his head. "No, you see some show I've put on for you for years-"

"You're not putting on a show right now. You're trembling, Draco. You're scared. You're laid open and bared already. And I see something I want. I see something I need."

They stared at each other for a moment's time, before they both snapped and crushed their lips together. It was desperate and aching and longing, Harry trying to reassure Draco that he didn't have to hide from him, and Draco trying to get closer to the warmth that was Harry.

A muffled "mmph," came from Harry, as Draco felt his hands weave into his hair, and he felt as if he were kissing Harry for the first time. He felt as if he'd been kissing him for years. He wanted to go on kissing him for years. There was an idea, he thought, as Harry attempted to burrow into him. They could stay here forever, just kissing. They could bronze the couple, and make a statue out of them, and later generations would take inspiration from the spectacle.

And then Harry's tongue slid into his mouth and he lost his train of thought.

**End Chapter**


	7. Oh, So Happy

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses. Angst. Mushiness.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 7 - Oh, So Happy**

They'd stopped kissing a few minutes ago, and were sitting on the wet grass of the Quidditch pitch, staring at one another. Harry had a soft smile curving up his lips, and Draco was starting to feel queasy.

"What about my parents? They'd like to see you dead."

"We'll avoid your family reunions."

"I'm serious."

"I love you."

Draco blinked and felt his mouth go dry. He coughed and moved on.

"What about your friends? They don't like me, either. With pretty good reason."

"I talked to them already. They're okay with it. Generally. Sort of."

"That's reassuring."

"I love you."

Draco sighed and looked down at his fingers entwined in the grass.

"What about our houses? The whole school? We'll both be shunned for this."

"I know. Won't it be great?"

"What is wrong with you?"

"I love you."

"That's definitely something."

"Listen, Draco," Harry sighed and leaned in as close as Draco would let him since he'd had this little nervous breakdown and began worrying. "There's no telling your parents would have liked anyone you brought home. If they truly love you, then they'll be happy that you're happy."

"And if they're not?"

"Then they don't truly love you."

Draco had thought that he had rid himself of the need for his parent's love years ago, when he'd recognized what a weakness it could be, but he was wrong. It was still there. Like an aching hole in his heart that wouldn't be filled, and he felt small and weak and unloved. And guilty. Harry didn't have any parents at all, and Draco felt bad that his weren't loving enough.

Maybe he hadn't been getting rid of his weaknesses for so long. Maybe he'd just been shutting them away.

"Do you really?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Do I what?"

"Love me?" Draco asked softly.

There was a momentary pause in which Draco worried that Harry might have changed his mind and they subconsciously leaned into one another.

"Very much," Harry breathed, and leant forward to brush their lips together. "Do you love me?"

Draco paused and pushed down his nervousness at having to say it out loud. "I have... for a very long time. I love you, Harry Potter."

Harry's soft smile turned in to a grin and Draco wondered if he was going to whoop or something when Harry merely leant in even more quickly before and captured his mouth in a rough kiss.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall had been a Professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for many, many years, and she was used to the shocks. Why, just a few days ago some Hufflepuff had accidentally transfigured a toad into a poisonous snake that had disappeared somewhere in her room. They hadn't found it yet, but she had a whole bottle of anti-venom in her room, just waiting to be used for when she... did find it.

But this. Well, this was a shock indeed.

Some young Ravenclaw had seen a couple on the Quidditch pitch snogging, and had reported it to Professor McGonagall when she'd been unable to find her own head of house. So here she was, making her way out to the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. And it was cold.

Why, in her day, students went up to the Astronomy Tower like normal people to snog. The Quidditch pitch. Hmmph.

She was spending her leisurely walk imagining the detention she was going to give the couple.

When she came within distance to make out just exactly who was wrecking her beauty sleep, she was given yet another surprise. Harry Potter.

Since when did he have a girlfriend?

She rolled her eyes at the passionate sounds they were making.

"Oh... Draco..."

At this, she choked on a breath of air and began a coughing fit that allowed the couple time to scramble to their feet. Harry looked on, worried for her, as she fought to regain her breath. When she finally did feel slightly normal again, she studied both boys carefully in the silence. Harry, now past his concern for his head of house, was smiling slightly. A slow, sly smile.

And Draco looked just a little flushed. A little flushed and oh-so-happy.

**End Chapter**


	8. Be There For You

Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses. Angst. Mushiness.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Like Glass  
Chapter 8 - Be There For You**

"So... it happened again?"

"Yes."

There was a pause in which Draco was sure Blaise was laughing silently at him. Draco didn't look up, and only continued gathering his books for class, hoping the blush spreading throughout his face wasn't very visible.

"And there was a conversation afterwards?"

"Yes."

"One in which... he told you he loved you."

Draco only coughed politely and nodded, immediately dropping to the ground and searching under his bed for his transfiguration book.

"And you said it back."

"Something like that."

"..."

"Okay, yes." He'd found his transfiguration book, but he wasn't sure he wanted to come back up and face Blaise for the rest of this conversation. He'd always enjoyed the conversations he could have with Blaise during the scarce moments Crabbe and Goyle left him alone, but he wasn't enjoying this one.

"And then..." and here Draco swore he hold Blaise holding back chuckles, "he jumped you and you started shagging on the Quidditch Pitch."

Draco's head shot up from behind his bed and he glared at Blaise, "We were not shagging."

"Excuse me. Getting frisky."

"It's not funny."

"On the contrary. I find it very entertaining that the great Draco Malfoy has fallen."

"Fallen?"

"In love."

Draco's face ran red again and Blaise fell back on his own bed, giggling madly. Draco grabbed hold of the nearest pillow and tossed it over to Blaise's bed, muffling the laughter. He stood and straightened his robes. "We're going to be late for Transfiguration."

"I'm not done yet."

"Yes, you are. Come on, let's go."

And Draco was out the door and walking briskly across the Slytherin common room. The usually dense air of the room stilled even more when Draco entered, his bad mood that day having already wreaked havoc on many of the occupants of the Slytherin house.

"Draco! Wait, let me walk you to class," Pansy stumbled to her feet and advanced after him, only to come to an abrupt halt when Draco turned to face her.

"Pansy, you're going in the complete opposite direction, if you come with me, you'll be late to class."

"That's okay, Draco, dear. I wouldn't want you to have to walk alone."

She smiled encouragingly at him and he almost felt guilty about leading her on all these years. It was just that... she fit all the requirements for the Malfoy bride. And she was kind of sweet, too. When she wasn't being a complete and utter evil, sadistic bitch, that is.

"He won't be," Blaise's voice interrupted them, and the temperature of the room dropped a bit as he strode in. Despite Draco's acceptance of his relationship with Ginny, and the Slytherin house's fake well-wishes for him, the disagreement over his decision to cow to love kept a constant strain on intra-house relations. "I've got the same class. We'll go together."

Draco turned from Pansy and left the commons as quickly as possible, in an attempt to avoid any more of the drama he'd been steeped in for the last few weeks. He slowed his steps the further he got from the Slytherin dorms, and Blaise finally caught up with him sometime during the twists and turns of the dungeons. "So... are you going to tell everyone?"

Draco sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You mean call a press conference and announce the relationship to the Wizarding World? Rita Skeeter would get a kick out of it."

Blaise snorted.

"I don't know. I want to tell people, but I also just don't want to do the telling. I wish something could just take it out of my hands so I didn't have to think about it anymore..."

Draco trailed off as he rounded the bend and came face to face with his secret boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The thrill of fear that that word sent through him was accompanied by a returning sense of the comfort he felt in Harry's presence.

Ron and Hermione had been walking next to Harry, hands twined intimately and Ginny was walking backwards just finishing a sentence directed at Hermione, "-and Parvati told me I was an idiot to trust Blaise. So, I was wondering... do you know any good petty revenge spells? I wanna see what her hair looks like green-"

At that point a grinning Blaise wrapped his arms around her from behind and she eeped as she stumbled into his embrace. She whipped around to face her attacker and then smiled sweetly and nearly tackled him with a hug. "Blaise!"

"Ginny, love." And they sighed and smiled at each other.

Ron looked a little green. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Hermione was tugging on Ron's hand and jerking her head to the other couple in the hallway.

Harry and Draco were simply staring at each other.

"Now I know I'm going to be sick."

"Ron!"

"Just kidding, 'Mione."

Draco smiled slightly and felt his ears turning red - again - from their attention. His eyes didn't leave Harry's though and Draco once again drudged up his somewhat-absent-of-late control and nodded politely. "Granger, Weasley, .... Potter."

"Hi Draco." Hermione and Ron chorused annoyingly.

Harry just kept staring.

Draco was beginning to get that itchy feeling that comes from being watched in the middle of a busy hallway by your former enemy and current wet dream come true. He felt even more nervous when a sly grin slowly crept over Harry's face.

"I caught the tail end of your conversation there, Draco. Did you want me to take it out of your hands?"

Draco blinked and then took a step back when Harry took one forward. The traffic around them was beginning to slow with students who wanted to see the latest Potter/Malfoy battle. Draco wasn't so sure they were expecting the kind of battle Harry intended.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't."

Draco caught more than one raised eyebrow at his weak, almost pleading tone.

Harry only took another step forward.

Draco was cornered up against the wall within moments and he barely had time to accept his fate and sigh in defeat when Harry grabbed his arms and pulled Draco to him. The rush of blood in Draco's ears drowned out the whispers and statements of shock that flowed through the crowd when Harry's lips descended on his own.

* * *

"When I said last night that I was willing to forget what I saw on the Quidditch field, I meant many different things."

Draco was still blushing from the hallway scene and had his head thrown back in the red leather chair in Professor McGonagall's office, his eyes closed. He was sure, though he couldn't tell through his tightly closed eyelids, that Harry was still grinning that triumphant grin.

"I meant that I was tired, and that I wanted to go back to bed. I meant that I was surprised at this new... bend in your relationship. Shocked, even. So much so that I hadn't the energy to compute it. I meant that on some level, I was nearly sure I was dreaming and would therefore like to end the nightmare by pretending it never happened."

"It's not very nice," Harry's voice sounded amused, "that you would think that Draco and me getting together is a nightmare."

Draco sighed and tried to drown out the conversation.

"Not the relationship itself," McGonagall struggled to clarify, "merely what it means. If I don't acknowledge it, then I'll never have to inform your parents of your immodesty, -"

Draco winced inwardly.

"-I'll never have to deal with the backlash from the Slytherin house,-"

Snape. Oh, Merlin.

"-I'll never have to endure whispers in my classroom,-"

Draco opened an eye to see Harry smirking happily.

"-And last, but most certainly not least, I'll never have to pay the Headmaster that 100 galleons I now owe him."

At this Draco's head snapped up and both boys gaped at her. She merely shrugged and sat down in her high-backed chair, peering down at some papers.

"Report to Hagrid's hut at sunset for your punishment. You are dismissed."

* * *

Draco was sitting on the moonlit grass of the Quidditch pitch, watching with amusement as Harry cleaned his arm of earwax.

"I still don't see why I had to cut Fluffy's ear hair, while you got to sit there playing on the harp."

Draco held back his chuckling, he desperately wanted to tease Harry at that moment.

"I mean, I know how to play an instrument."

"Which one?"

"The harmonica."

Draco managed to keep a straight face as Harry pulled another sticky glob from the depths of his sleeve. "Are you any good at it?"

"You're trying to change the subject."

"So? You do it all the time, too."

They both paused to look at each other and Draco sighed. Harry nodded shortly. "Ah, avoidance. At least we know we have something in common."

It was silent for a little while, and Draco stared down the length of his legs at something far off in the distance. Harry shifted a little closer to them and Draco turned into him. "They know by now."

Harry nodded, knowing that Draco spoke of his parents.

"What's going to happen, Harry?"

Harry shook his head and they moved a little closer to one another, Draco seeking warmth from Harry, and Harry seeking to comfort Draco. "Whatever it is, I'll be here with you."

"Forever?"

There was a pause; "I'll try."

Draco looked up and stared into Harry's warm, green eyes. "Is that all you can do? Try?"

Harry leaned forward and gave Draco a soft, promising kiss; "I'll be here with you, Draco. As long as you want me."

**The End  
Continued in it's sequel: The Shattering**


End file.
